Hollyknits

A common bond of loss
Reunion of two friends, 
Sharing what we did in our lives
Our new-found friendship grew.

We knew what was before us
We were not blind
Optimistic attitudes, nevertheless
This was our time.

A getaway from a re-constructing life
A world  just beginning to know, again
A welcome distraction, change at its best 
Fun, laughter, carefree adventure.

For him, a chance for another
To love and be loved
Not recognizing his desires of
Missing his Tammy, so. 

Seeing some of what our country has to offer
Beautiful mountains majesty
RV camping perhaps my favorite
As it reminded me of my camping youth.

He thinks I helped him through it all
Until I could no more
His family rallied to his side
Our memories safely in store.

What he may or may not have realized 
I do wonder, is how he guided me
To discover what is truly important to me
And, that is a treasure, for sure.

Frozen in time to the reality of this loss
Loved ones left to pick up the pieces
An awkward serene of silence around me
I write this poem in his honor. 

He is safely home now
Suffering has come to an end
So brave and noble his fight
His gallant battle lost.

I will miss my relentless friend
Forty-six years ago lost and recently found
I thank you, John for your last dance
A friendship to which I am forever bound.

~

College dance, circa 1975 (from my Mom’s scrap book.) John relocated to continue his studies in Alabama, I stayed local whereupon our lives took us to our professions, marriages and children.

Durags for all modeled here at Cleveland Clinic and at home. Also, Canal Side in Buffalo, Ohio car show, French Lick Resort in Indiana, Gatlinburg, Tennessee, we trooped around.

Beautiful, beautiful Smokey Mountains in Tennessee

a sample of John’s family gatherings where I was lovingly included these last few months

in the doorway of that darn camper I loved

Bedford, Indiana . . the last time I was to see John, just five days before writing this.

John was diagnosed with a very rare skin cancer called Angiosarcoma of the scalp. So rare, there is very little data on best practice treatment. John was treated at Cleveland Clinic as well as facilities closer to his home, would ask questions and many times those questions were left unanswered simply because of the rarity of this horrific disease. He underwent unheard of extensive surgeries, chemo rounds, radiation, immunotherapy and remained amazingly independent through it all up until his last 24 hours. A battle that was just short of ten months from diagnosis and, all that just a year after he lost his wife to brain cancer, he endured. Never wanting to ask for help, he was stubbornly optimistic. He passed away peacefully and comfortably surrounded by his family. We will all miss his zest for life.

Rest in peace, my good friend. 9/25/55 – 3/17/22

He asked me if I would be writing about him, here. I guess now he knows.